


Only Us Few Now

by Leonawriter



Series: Imperial Remnants [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:05:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5694079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonawriter/pseuds/Leonawriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a somewhat different turn of events where Vader survives RotJ, it is the slowly changing Empire that slowly has Rebel cells ‘surrender’ - which is in fact a fancy term for them accepting the terms of a treaty. The latest causes quite a stir in the Imperial household.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Us Few Now

This was one of the few times when Anakin truly and utterly wished that he had neither killed his old master, nor alienated his daughter. He also, with a pain far deeper than either of those frustrations - for frustrations they truly were, since death had hardly stopped Obi-Wan from interacting with them from beyond the grave, and Leia was... well, Leia, and had every reason to do things on her own terms - wished that Padme were still alive.

Wishful thinking. A past that was behind him. And yet, at the same time, a past that had its effects touching him even now. He could almost imagine how she would react to his situation. Almost feel her touch, despite still-gloved hands, as she told him that none of this would have been necessary if he had merely listened to her in the first place, and then explained to him what all of this meant. 

He imagined that she would point out exactly who could be trusted to reform the Senate, and who could not be. She would know the mannerisms of the Moffs, and they would share jokes about their misfortunes.

Anakin sighed, and shook his head. The breath rattled through his respirator harshly.

None of this was making any more sense than it had before. Paperwork... had never really been his strong point. He was a warrior, a tactician, a general and commander. He had been a Jedi, and then a Lord of the Sith - whatever that meant. He was only now realising that he might not truly know. But a paper pusher? Someone who looked at numbers and knew what to do with them?

No. That had never been  _him_.

There was a knock on the door. Only too happy for the interruption, he activated it open before he had fully risen from his seat.

"Lord Vader. I mean- I'm sorry, your majesty-"

"Lord Vader will do, Sergeant Keel."

He had not attained the position of Emperor merely for the power. In fact, he had not intentionally obtained it at all, in some respects, given that the succession of power had happened rather rapidly, what with the previous Emperor succumbing to a rather fatal... accident... while performing his duties on the last Death Star.

Integration had not been easy. Perhaps it would have been so had he taken things in the direction that he was sure Palpatine would have expected him to, with a show of force and inciting fear into the general populace. 

That,  _that_ would have been 'easy'. It was what he knew. An old mantle he could have donned and easily pushed aside how heavy it weighed on him, until he walked with a bowed back just like his master had.

Attempting peace - actual peace - was far more difficult. Especially when most of the officers were finding it as odd as he to transition into being something other than what they were.

"Ah, yes. Sir. My lord, we've just extracted another Rebel cell. Intel states that the leader is one of the high-ups, one who has not yet surrendered and made treaty with the Empire."

Ah. That  _was_ news. Every so often, the Rebels would, cell by cell, accept that the war was over. That they could stop fighting. It was a risky manoeuvre for both sides, since accepting Rebels into the heart of the Empire meant that they could do even more damage, and for the Rebels themselves meant the potential of capture, and especially early on, interrogation and death, as had been the norm previously. Thankfully, his children's presence helped with that, since they were both still clear and vocal about their true alliance, and also free to go whenever they wished.

A full six months, and they had gained much headway toward a true treaty, albeit one that required the Sith-spawned reams of paperwork.

And yet-

"You are still here. Clearly, this is not all."

The man had started to sweat - anxiety and fear - and yet was still standing to attention. He did not know whether to commend him for bravery or foolishness, although in the current climate the former was more likely.

"M-my lord. Forgive me, but - the reports state that the Rebel leader is a  _Jedi_ , sir."

Anakin's helmet immediately came up, his senses reaching out and only half hearing the rest of what the man was saying.

There were only a few Jedi left that he knew were alive. Either this was some unknown factor, someone who had survived the Purge, or... it could be  _her_.

No. _She_ was the only one this could be. And now that he knew to look, he could feel her presence reaching out across to him, bright and fierce, almost the same as when they had last seen each other.

Exactly the same. He did an injustice, and had momentarily forgotten their last, actual meeting. One that now, it was harder to recall and easier to forget, yet remember it he must.

"Bring me to her," he said to the sergeant, who started at being suddenly addressed, and the fact that he had not mentioned the supposed Jedi's gender.

It was hard to walk slowly enough to be led by the (understandably if irritatingly) jumpy officer, his strides wanting to become longer and at the same time, not. He had no idea how this meeting would take place, he realised with more and more certainty.

Things had changed between them. So much. 

He heard the clash of 'sabers as he passed the training salle, although as he did so they paused, and then stopped. It wasn't long afterward that his children - Luke, looking excited as always to see and talk to his father, a thing that would always give Anakin a thrill of pride, and Leia, trailing behind her brother more out of cautious curiosity and a desire to make sure that none of this was going to go sour after all, even after all that he had done - came out, not even needing to ask.

They must have sensed her, too.

"Father? I didn't know there  _were_ any Jedi left! This is amazing!"

That was certainly one word he could use to describe the situation, yes.

"Oh, come on, Luke. As happy as I am, I don't think it's going to be that easy. What? I'm just saying, perhaps we shouldn't start asking how they survived or how they knew Vader. That's all."

Anakin could palpably  _feel_ Luke's continuing frown.

" _Leia_."

To him, it didn't matter what his daughter called him. One name was as good as another. Anakin Skywalker was who he was, and yet he was also Darth Vader, and it was Darth Vader who was the Emperor, not - at least, to the general populace outside of those in the know - Anakin Skywalker.

In many respects, Leia was well within her right. And aside from anything, the Imperial Stormtroopers and officers were still unused to hearing his name being anything  _other_ than Darth Vader.

It was merely something that he had to accept.

Even if every time she called him such, he saw Padme's face in her features, his wife calling him a monster instead of their daughter, and reminding him of everything that he had taken from them all.

It was for this same reason that he had no arguments, despite Luke's disapproval of his sister's behaviour and attitude. 

It was for this same reason that he hesitated at the door, beyond which Ahsoka lay waiting.

_The past lies behind you,_ he thought he heard Obi-Wan saying.  _It's the future that lies ahead. As someone once said, an ever-changing thing._ He wasn't sure if it was humour or grief that he heard in his dead teacher's voice.

_Though it must be said, I do wonder who, in this situation, is now the master and who is now the apprentice._

"Father?"

Still aggravated by Obi-Wan's private joke at his his expense and trying,  _trying_ , to not let the waves of irritation show in the Force too badly given that the last thing he wanted to display upon entry was a bad temper, he gestured to the Sergeant to open the door.

The room had originally been intended for... negotiative interrogations. There was a small desk, and two chairs on either side. Nowadays, it and others like it were home to events such as this, where a private audience was preferable to an open one.

The Force danced between them, excited and charged, waiting on the first person to call on it, to call on the connection. With the adjustments that had been made to his life support suit, Anakin was able to look on his old Padawan and see her not in shades of red as he had the last time they had met, but in a true spectrum of colour that he had almost forgotten by the time it had been restored to him.

He drank in the sight of her, like a drop of water on the desert in its sweltering heat, too little, too late.

The door closed behind them, leaving the Imperial officer who had alerted him to her presence outside. Now, it was only them. Some of the only remaining Force-users alive.

While the door had been open, he had not dared let his guard down, and nor had he allowed himself to give up any appearance of control. With it closed, however-

His head bowed somewhat, in a display of respect to another that as Emperor would have been unseemly.

"I... thank you for the trust that you have shown in coming here. It  _will_ be rewarded."

He heard a sound - somewhere between disgust and anger. He willed himself with every fibre of his being not to  _flinch_. He  _would not_ flinch. Not at any of this. 

"Trust, Vader? I didn't come here because I trust in the Empire. Or in  _you_. Not until you've shown that you've  _earned_ that. You might have convinced these two-"

"Hey, don't count  _me_ in on this!"

"-but it's results that I need to see. Is that understood?"

He inclined his head again, although this time the movement was slower, and he afterward rose his eyes - and the place where others would  _see_ his eyes - to meet hers.

She was all hard edges and angles now, the frown on her face marring her features and chiselling her expression into something he had only ever seen aimed at her enemies.

They had both come so far. In an odd sense, he was proud of her. Proud, for becoming everything that he had not been.

"Clearly."

Negotiations began. Mainly led by Leia, with some small input from both him, and Luke chiming in every so often.

He still remembered a time when he had been angry at her very existence, a single being that fully encapsulated his failures who still lived, who was also a reminder of everything Anakin Skywalker had been. Under that still, he also remembered teaching her and laughing with her.

Wistfully, he wondered what it would be like to fall into that routine once more. She had more than earned the name 'Snips' when she was younger, and she was reminding him of why now.

It was too bad he could too easily imagine her telling him that he did not have that  _right_. That, just like any other part of their old relationship to each other, he would have to earn it back.

It would be a long process. Longer even than all the paperwork which was, inevitably, piling up even further back on his desk as the data pads stacked higher. Hopefully, though, this would be far more interesting, would keep him on his toes, and he had a vested interest in ensuring that none of this would fail.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Okay just to say? I'm just purely winging it on Ahsoka. But I love her character and I love the idea of Vader turning the Empire back into the Republic bit by bit from the inside. (I'm actually drawing major influence from some of Mina1's work, for the way all this came about, although it could just as well be something entirely new.) So I may have mentioned things that either haven't happened yet in canon (likely) or may never happen in canon, and I cite artist's license. Or something.


End file.
